Albus followed the Maître through the house and downstairs into the basement. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they paused in front of a door which was painted black like the ones at the club. The Maître gripped the door handle and gave Albus a wicked grin.
"Ready?" he asked. Albus swallowed hard and nodded, his heart was thumping so hard in his chest now it was painful. The Maître pushed the door open and he beckoned Albus inside, then closed it quietly behind him. The room was small, with the same dark wooden panelling that decorated the hall upstairs. It was dimly lit with several candles floating in mid air illuminating the small playroom in a soft glow. Albus however paid the candles and the interior decor no mind. Instead his gaze was immediately drawn to the centre of the room, his eyes widened and his cock hardened at the sight of the contraption that the Maître had laid out for him. A satisfied smile spread across the Maître's face and he slipped his hands around Albus' waist, resting his chin on Albus' shoulder.
"Do you like what you see?" he asked softly.
Albus swallowed hard and nodded mutely. That he did.
At the centre of the room was a wooden apparatus that resembled a pommel horse. The body was covered in black leather padding and four arms extended out from beneath it, two on either side, with padded arms and leg rests as well as a cushioned headrest at the front. Loosely wrapped around the arm and leg rests were several coils of rope, enough to stop Albus from fidgeting—or indeed, moving at all—if the Maître so pleased. His heart began to race with nerves and arousal at the thought of being strapped to the table, at the mercy of this man. There was nothing he wanted more.
He couldn't help but notice the table to the left of the leather pommel horse. A leather apron was hanging off the end and his eyes trailed across the variety of toys the Maître had laid out for him: the dragon-leather spanking paddle he had seen the Maître wielding in the club, a metal rod with a silver wheel covered in evenly spaced sharp pins, a whipping crop, and—Albus' breath hitched at the sight—a large, black dildo. It had three different sized bumps down the shaft, each shaped like the head of a cock. It was slightly intimidating, but Albus was still keen to experiment with it.
The Maître's hand deftly slipped down the front of Albus' trousers and gripped his already achingly hard cock. He gasped and thrust forward into the man's fist, desperate for more contact. The Maître pressed his lips to Albus' ear, his hot breath kissing his skin and making him shiver.
"I'm going to punish you for turning up late tonight," he whispered, his hand sliding up and down Albus' thick, slick shaft. "I'm going to bend you over that table and tie you down so you can't move an inch, and then I'm going to use my toys to fuck with you."
Albus groaned as he felt the Maître's erection pressing into the small of his back. Without thinking, he reached out to touch it, but the man slapped his hand away.
"Oh, no you don't," he chastised. "You'll be servicing me later, but you don't get to touch without permission. Do you understand?"
Albus nodded.
"Aloud," the whispered word tickled across the tiny hairs on Albus' skin.
"I understand."
Albus heard the rustle of clothing moments before a firm hand was covering his neck, craning his head back to rest on the shoulder behind him. "How did I tell you to address me, Kelpie?"
Albus wracked his brain, which was an arduous task when it felt like all of the blood in his body had flooded to his southern territory. The hand was not restricting his breathing, but it also gave no quarter, forcing his back up against the other man's taller frame. Finally, the correct answer floated into Albus' brain and he let out a breathy, "I understand, Master."
"That's a good boy. You will always address me as such when we're playing." The fingers of one hand stroked Albus' adam's apple, following its movement as Albus' swallowed, while his other gave Albus' cock a torturously slow stroke, pulling the foreskin over the glans and rubbing them together, setting off a fireworks of sensations from the nerve endings in his foreskin. "First things first, I need to punish you." Roughly pulling his hand free from Albus' trousers, he took a step back, his teasing smile replaced with a stony expression.
"Strip," he commanded and Albus obeyed, practically tearing off his clothes. The Maître gently rested a hand on Albus' shoulder and he paused.
"Relax. Take your time," he said soothingly. "We have all night to enjoy each other."
Albus let out a shaky breath and nodded. He began stripping again with greater care this time, his hands trembling with nervous anticipation as he struggled to undo the buttons of his shirt. He made a mental note to wear clothing that was easier to remove next time he came here—there was no doubt in his mind that he would be coming back for more in the near future. When he finally shed the last of his clothes, Albus stood naked in front of the Maître, awaiting instruction. Again, the Maître remained fully clothed, although the outline of his erection was obvious in his tight trousers. He inclined his head towards the black leather table.
"Climb onto the table," he ordered. "Get on your hands and knees."
Albus did as he was instructed, shaking slightly as he climbed on top of the table, resting his forearms and shins on the padded rests. The Maître picked up the first coil of rope and began fastening it around Albus' waist. The rope looked as though it was made of spun silver and it felt silky smooth against his skin. Albus realised that it must be made of unicorn hair. An apt choice, thought Albus. Not only was unicorn hair soft to the touch, it was incredibly strong and durable. Perfect for tying someone up.
"If you want to stop at any time—even if it's just to readjust the ropes or if you get a cramp, or if you want to stop completely—the ring will let me know, but you'll have to tell me what's causing you discomfort. I expect you to be honest with me, do you understand?" he asked, carefully securing Albus' torso.
"Understood," he agreed quietly.
A sharp crack split the air and Albus's body jolted, but he wasn't sure whether it was from the sting of pain which was now giving way to a wonderful tingling sensation that caused his cock to give a jerk of appreciation, or if it was just from the surprise of the action. Albus swallowed, his mouth suddenly flooding with a spike of anxious excitement. Albus looked at the magical ring on his right hand and took in the swirling green liquid, that gave off a faint pulsing light. Albus licked his lips and tried again, "I understand, Master."
The Maître eyed Albus appraisingly, finally seeming satisfied. The sternness melted away from his face and Albus shivered when the Maître's voice slid down several octaves and in a gravelly voice he crooned, "Good boy."
Once Albus' upper body was fastened into place, the Maître began securing his legs, sliding the rope over his taut thighs and calves, deliberately brushing the palm of his hands over his bare flesh, teasing him even now before their play really began. It would have been easier and quicker to use his wand, but the Maître wanted to touch Albus, wanted to take his time with him. Standing behind Albus now, he pulled two ropes up between his legs and around his hips, tightening them so that they pulled his arse open, leaving his anus, cock, and balls exposed for easier access. Albus' heart hammered hard in his chest; the Maître had barely touched him and he was already feeling light-headed. He felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable in this position, and he'd never been harder in his life.
The Maître double checked that all of the ropes were secure enough to stop Albus from fidgeting, but not tight enough to cut off circulation. Finally, he took a few steps back to admire his handiwork; Albus on all fours, ass up and strapped down, completely at his mercy.
"You should see yourself like this," he sighed, nodding his head appreciatively. "You look divine."
As erotic as the sight was, the best part was the look in Albus' eyes—complete and utter submission and trust. He circled Albus, appreciating him from all angles, coming to a stop in front of him. Making sure Albus' gaze was fixed on him, he squeezed his erection through his tight trousers, groaning softly. Albus' eyes glazed over and he involuntarily licked his lips. The Maître smiled, pleased that Albus was as much into this as he was. He liked this one—liked him a lot, in fact. He definitely planned on punishing Albus with pleasure tonight. That way hopefully he'd come back for more.
Albus' eyes followed the man as he moved across the room towards the table with his tools of pain and pleasure, pacing back and forth, trying to decide which one to use.
"Choices, choices…" he sighed, his hand hovering back and forth over the different toys. His hand lingered over the wartenberg wheel, then the paddle, but at the last moment he snatched up the black dildo. An involuntary whimper escaped Albus' lips at the mere thought of the Maître putting it inside of him. As his erection pressed hard against the leather surface of the table, he tried rutting back and forth, desperate to increase the sensation, but he couldn't move an inch. The Maître held out the dildo for Albus' perusal.
"I'm going to fuck you with this," he informed him matter-of-factly. Albus' pupils were so dilated they looked almost black. "But you aren't allowed to come until I give you permission to. Understood?"
"Understood, Master," Albus replied, his voice low and rough.
He stepped behind Albus and marveled at the sight before him for a few moments before casting a silent lubrication spell, teasing Albus' hole with his finger, which easily slipped inside of him. His grin broadened.
"Prepped yourself before coming here tonight, did you?" he chuckled. "I love how keen you are. You just want this thick, black cock inside of you now, don't you?"
"Merlin, yes," breathed Albus. A pleasant sting erupted across his bare flesh and his ass clenched around the Maître's fingers.
"What was that?" he asked sharply.
"Yes, Master," Albus groaned, correcting himself. The Maître carefully removed his fingers then lightly brushed the dildo against Albus' entrance.
"Ready?" he asked. Albus closed his eyes and took long, deep breaths, trying to relax.
"Ready, Master," he confirmed. Gellert began to press the dildo against Albus' hole, meeting some resistance but slowly, gradually, the Maître pushed it further into him. Albus' breaths were coming out in quick, hard pants as the toy slid deeper inside of him, and as the first bump slid past the tight ring of muscles, Albus' eyes flew open and he gasped, "Oh, god!"
He tried arching his back as much as possible, but the ropes prevented him from moving. The Maître pulled the toy back out entirely and whispered, "Does that feel good?"
"Fuck yes, Master," he groaned. The Maître smiled and proceeded to slide it back in again in long, slow strokes, over and over again, pushing Albus closer and closer to the edge. Albus tried to lean back, desperate to increase the speed and intensity of the man's torturously slow sexual ministrations. The Maître noticed how fidgety Albus was getting and he tsked.
"Quite impatient, aren't you?" he teased. "I'll have to punish you for that."
"Yes...please..." Albus whimpered, desperate for the pain and pleasure of the Maître's retribution. The Maître murmured a spell under his breath and enchanted the dildo to continue sliding in and out of Albus' ass on its own while he moved round to face him, his erection pressing uncomfortably against the constraints of his trousers.
Albus' breathing was becoming increasingly ragged, his skin slick with perspiration. He was so close to coming, but he concentrated on holding off—he hadn't been given permission to come yet. The Maître lifted Albus' chin a little and ran his thumb over his pink, pouty lips.
"You've got a pretty mouth," he said, his voice low and husky. "It would look even prettier wrapped around my cock"
Albus groaned and gave the Maître's thumb a light suck, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Gellert's as he did so, sending a shot of pleasure straight to the Maître's cock. He really, really liked this one…
He unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his thick, hard cock, stroking it back and forth a few times while Albus watched intently as if mesmerised by the display. He took a step closer, holding his member just out of reach of Albus' lips.
"I'm going to let you suck my cock now," he said. "But remember, don't come until I give you permission to. Understood?"
"Understood, Master," Albus replied roughly, straining to get the cock in his mouth, the dildo still slowly working its way in and out of his body. The Maître rested his free hand on the back of Albus' head and pressed the head of his cock against Albus' lips. Albus' tongue swiped the tip and he shivered involuntarily at the sensation. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath in an effort to compose himself before speaking again.
"More?" he asked. Albus groaned in approval and the Maître gladly obliged, taking a firm grip on Albus' silky, auburn hair and sliding himself deeper into his mouth. Albus closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, relishing the taste of the man's sweet, swollen flesh sliding in and out of his mouth to the same rhythm as the dildo sliding in and out of his body. A thick fog of arousal clouded his mind, totally lost in the aching pleasure pulsing from his groin, growing and spreading with intensity through his body with each delicious stroke.
"Fuck," hissed the Maître as Albus began to eagerly suck his cock, tightening and relaxing his lips as the Maître slid the shaft in and out of his mouth, swirling his tongue over the tip over and over again. Despite his best efforts, the Maître was quickly losing his composure.
"Merlin, you're good at that," he slurred. "Fuck me…"
Albus groaned and redoubled his efforts, the sound and vibration sending a delicious shot of pleasure through the Maître's cock and up his spine. He gripped Albus' hair more tightly to steady himself as his legs began to shake. Fuck, what was this guy doing to him? He was supposed to be the one in control, but here was the submissive making him weak in the knees. If he was going to maintain a modicum of control he'd need to end this now. Not that he had much choice—a few more sucks from Albus and he was going to blow his load.
"I'm going to come in your mouth now," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady and authoritative. "Ready?"
Albus groaned eagerly, his head spinning, totally lost in the spiral of overwhelming pleasure. A crescendo of noises filled the room, the wet sound of Albus sucking cock as the dildo continued to slip in and out of his slick hole, their ragged breaths and moans and finally a sharp cry from the Maître as he came.
"Oh fuck!" gasped the Maître, throwing his head back and thrusting his hips forward as his cock began to pulse. "Come for me now, Albus!"
Finally, mercifully, Albus was allowed to come. His fingernails dug into the leather armrest, his whole body stiffened and he moaned as his orgasm took hold; for a few perfect moments Albus felt free—free from his life, from himself—and every pent up emotion inside of him, every uncertainty and fear melted away as pleasure seemed to consume him entirely. Losing control like this...it was liberating. And it was all thanks to the man before him.
The Maître took a couple unsteady steps back from Albus, panting hard and wiping his damp, blonde hair from his eyes. He looked down at Albus with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.
"I think this could be the beginning of a long and fruitful partnership between the two of us, little Kelpie. Now swallow like a good boy."
Albus was definitely a very good boy.